Chapter 30
Belle
The fire iron hurtled forward, a dark lance.
The king twisted, seizing it by its tip moments before it sank into his chest. He stood there a second, the point still pressed into the pleat of his jacket, his molten eyes locked on me.
Before I could release my breath, he shot forward and pinned me against the wall, his left hand braced beside my head. He flipped the fire iron around and leveled it below my breast with his other. “You reveal your true intentions yet again.”
This time he was going to kill me. I tried to connect with the iron in his hand, but it was muffled. The same went for the knife at his hip. Apparently, I couldn’t connect to anything someone else carried.
That would’ve been useful to know.
I grasped his wrist, as if my pitiful strength could do anything against his. “My intention was to pour my maid a cup of tea. Then you walked in, and suddenly, I had the overwhelming urge to kill you—a poor instinct, in retrospect.”
He brought his face perilously close to mine. “I think killing me is what you came here to do.”
Fates, how was I supposed to think, looking into those honey-gold eyes? Eyes that hadn’t been that color moments ago. Was it a trick of the light or of the mask he wore?
I held his gaze, unblinking. “You’re wrong. I came here looking for a way to save my people from the beasts. Instead, their king made me his prisoner.”
“I don’t believe you,” he said as his eyes dropped to my mouth, lingering as if he wanted to kiss me.
The laces of my dress were suddenly far too tight, my skin slicked with sweat. He couldn’t possibly want that—not after what I’d just done.
I tore my gaze from his lips and kicked at him pathetically. I might as well have been blowing in his face.
“Had I actually been trying to kill you, Your Highness, I would have aimed for your back the moment you turned around.”
Gods, why hadn’t I waited until he headed for the door?
Because this man made me irrational beyond all reason.
The king didn’t release me, but he let the poker down, the heat of his body sweeping over me like tongues of flame. “If this wasn’t an attempt to kill me, what was it?”
I tried to move, but his powerful body caged me in. “You were being insufferable and admitted to spying on me in my private chambers. Consider it a crime of passion.”
He arched an eyebrow, a hint of smoke in his eyes. “Passion?”
His voice was low and silken, and the word brushed over my skin, awakening a desperate heat between my thighs.
I refused to let this monster awaken anything in me but hate, so I kicked out at him again. “You know what I mean.”
He knew, just as clearly as he knew the treacherous effect his voice had on my body.
He tipped his head so his mouth was inches from the shell of my ear. “In case you find yourself in the heat of passion around me again, princess, killing me would be a grave mistake.”
“I can’t think of a reason why that would be true. Seems like an excellent idea. Perhaps you should try to convince me otherwise.”
The king released his hold and stepped away, leaving me relieved and wanting all at once. I knew in that moment that no distance would be safe. This man could destroy me in more ways than one.
“You want to stop the beasts?” he said with cold indifference. “Well, I know more about them than anyone alive. Let that be your reason.”
It may be true, but he’d already refused to help me.
I met his unyielding gaze with as much indifference as I could feign. “Or maybe killing you would break the curse, and no one would have to worry about the beasts ever again.”
Dark amusement danced behind his dragon mask. “You think I created the curse?”
“They say so,” I shot back, even as doubt dug into my certainty like a splinter jammed beneath my nail.
“They.” He laughed, though there was nothing real to the sound. “They know nothing about it, and neither do you. If you killed me, sweet Belle, the curse would continue, and there would be no one to stop the beasts from ravaging these lands, let alone yours.”
Was that true? Was he really the only thing keeping the beasts in check?
He put the fire iron over his shoulder and walked toward the door.
“Then tell me,” I pleaded, rushing forward.
He paused, smug and unassailable in his power. “I don’t think you’ve earned that yet.”
The fire crackled in the hearth as if it, too, was mocking me.
The clever bastard was playing me like a fiddle. I clenched my fists. “Why did you come here? To stop me from serving Loreli a cup of tea? To lord your power over me? Or did you have a purpose?”
He studied me for a moment, then bent and scooped the white rose he’d brought off the floor. “I came to invite you to dinner—though I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting things to get so…passionate between us.”
“You must be joking.” I stared at the flower, dumbfounded. Dinner? His casual disregard for my attempt to kill him was infuriating beyond measure.
“I’m not. And I’m magnanimous enough to extend my offer, despite your reckless behavior.” His gaze flicked to the wardrobe he’d sent to replace the one I’d bludgeoned him with. “Wear the black dress—it looks ravishing on you.”
He had been watching me.
My cheeks burned, and I had to forcibly stop myself from hurling a vase at him. The godsdamned voyeur. “I decline your generous invitation, Your Highness.”
“No one declines my invitation.”
I backed away from the outstretched rose, as if its petals were pure acid. “I’ve seen how you eat, and I have no intention of giving you permission to do so—or do you not hold yourself to the same laws as your nobles?”
The way he’d fed on the courtesan at the revel had been permanently burned into my memory. The way she’d moaned and pressed into him. There was absolutely no way that I was going to do that with him. With any immortal, for that matter.
“I’m king. My laws apply first and foremost to me. I would never drink from you without your permission.” The corner of his lip turned up, revealing a hint of his fangs. “Or with it, for that matter. You’re not my type.”
I glared at him. “And what type am I?”
“Troublesome. An ill-trained filly I have to ride.”
I swatted the damn rose out of his hands. “My answer is no.”
He scoffed. “You would refuse me this simple thing?”
“Yes, I would. You treat me like a toy. Pick my clothes. Choose my meals. You take me out of my box, play with me in front of your court, then pack me away when you’re done.
I’m allowed to do nothing except what Your Highness wills.
So yes, I refuse it, as apparently, choosing to eat alone is the only freedom I have. ”
“Perhaps I would be more inclined to grant you freedom if you stopped trying to kill me and did what you were told.”
I should accept the dinner gratefully, even if it meant being his little doll.
It could be a chance to learn about the curse.
Yet I couldn’t bring myself to roll over for him and acquiesce to his every whim and pleasure.
He already thought he owned me. If he wanted me to dress up and appease his fancy, then he would have to make a concession.
“Fine,” I said, bracing my hands on my hips to keep them from hurtling something at him.
“You agree to release Gregoire and grant me the courtesies offered to a true guest—like privacy and freedom of movement—then I’ll join you for dinner.
Fates, I will even wear that filthy dress and stop trying to kill you. ”
The corner of his mouth curved with dark satisfaction. “I’m not releasing the huntsman, and you don’t get to make demands.”
He could have given me one thing, and I would have accepted gladly. But he didn’t even consider my request.
Unable to stomach his gallingly beautiful face any longer, I marched into my bedroom. “Good night. Find someone else who suits your taste. I’m certain there are plenty around.” I slammed the door and channeled a sliver of my magic into it. “Stay shut.”
Frost formed for a second over my fingers, and the door locked.
The king jiggled the handle, then slammed his fist against the door. It shuddered, and I had no doubt he could break it down if he so chose.
“Either you eat with me, or not at all,” he growled through the door.
“Then not at all!”
“So be it! When you’re starving tomorrow, remember, this was your choice!” The outer door of my chambers slammed shut, followed by an ominous click.
I dragged my hands through my hair and stifled a scream. I should’ve agreed to the damn dinner. I might’ve learned something about the curse, about the king.
And yet, I couldn’t bear to be his doll.